“And I’ll use you as focal point
So I don’t lose sight of what I want
And I’ve moved further than I thought I could
But I miss you more than I thought I would
Oh I’ll use you as a warning sign
That if you talk enough sense, then you’ll lose your mind
And I found love where it wasn’t supposed to be
Right in front of me, talk some sense to me”
~ I Found, Amber Run
I love DenNor
And the picture is so pretty T.T
My wonderful Fem Denmark is @story-of-infinity
i finally finished my pirate norway costume (after leaving it sitting around half-finished for a whole year). almost the entire costume was made from my fabric stash of things that i either bought on clearance, found at a thrift store, or scraps from old projects.
A Nordics AU focused entirely around the sea and the boats that sail upon it.
Mathias Andersen is a notorious pirate who roams the Northern Atlantic and the North Sea, ravaging and pillaging the coasts of Canada, Northern America, Norway, and Denmark. He’s passed into the realm of legend becoming known as The Will ‘o’ the Wisp of the Atlantic since he’s always managed to evade capture and seems to vanish like mist on the water.
Lukas Sørensen is a Captain in Norway’s Royal Navy and was given strict orders to apprehend and bring in Mathias and his crew for their crimes. Frightfully effective, Lukas still finds himself a step behind Mathias unless Mathias dictates otherwise. He finds himself getting swept up into the whirlwind that Mathias brings with him where ever he goes and captivated by his charisma and charm. Before he knows it, Lukas has found that he’s fallen in love with the pirate after a series of scandalous soirées and rendezvous. Torn between his duty and his heart, Lukas struggles to do his job while courting with the enemy.
Emil Stielsson is an orphan who was picked up by Mathias when he was young. He looks up to Mathias as a fatherly or older brother figure. He is a part of Mathias’s crew and tries to do his best despite Mathias coddling him some and being overprotective of him. He’s constantly trying to prove that he’s no longer a child and can do a man’s work. He rather likes Lukas, despite him being a part of the Navy. He really wishes he would just quit and join up with them so Mathias would quit sighing and making puppy-dog eyes over him.
Tino Väinämöinen is Mathias’s first mate and the best damn shot the seven seas has ever seen. He seems sweet and cuddly on the outside but there is a reason that he’s Mathias’s first mate. He’s a fantastic tactician and Mathias turns to his counsel for planning his raids above all others. Tino is also frightfully taken with Lukas’s first mate, Berwald Oxenstierna.
Berwald Oxenstierna is Lukas’s first mate. He’s a man of few words but his presence more than makes up for his taciturn nature. He specifically requested to be a part of Luka’s crew. His qualifications naturally moved him up through the ranks instantly to his current rank. Berwald had a personal history with Mathias, back when they both were younger and needless to say the two have never gotten along. He was determined to see Mathias and his crew hang. Upon meeting the rest of Mathias’s crew, his colors changed. He found Emil capable and was one of the few people to treat him like the adult he so desperately wanted to be seen as. He was besotted with Mathias’s first mate, Tino and the two started a fumbling relationship that didn’t become intimate until much, much later.
Needless to say Lukas and Berwald made a disgrace of the Royal Navy by abandoning their posts and willfully aligning themselves in league with the very pirates they were sent to apprehend. Shenanigans ensue as the rag-tag pirate crew continue to seek their illicit fortunes, with the two former Navy officers attempting to put a shade of justice upon their activities, while avoiding the authorities that wish to see them all dead.
((Day two of Polymanga ! It was raining an awful lot but it was still awesome ! We met our friends cosplaying Fem!Finland, Fem!Norway, Fem!France, and France ! Shh but I wanted to take pictures on the wet rocks near the lake but Fiona was afraid that I’d fall in the water and I didn’t listen to her …))
A compilation of my Hetalia costumes from this year (some of them are old costumes with new wigs). I just uh got really excited about curly wigs. I was really tempted to try to finish the pirate Norway costume that’s been sitting around half-finished since July but I haven’t had the energy.
IVE GOT A SCENARIO FOR YA. Merman Norway and Pirate Den? Like how would Lukas approach him? Just like- Aaaaa
Listen, I started writing a thing, but then walked away and @jindaokol absolutely grabbed it and ran. So what you have here is the bare-bones of the beginnings (like first couple of paragraphs without direction) of an idea I had, then Jin wrote and finished it. So I really can’t claim this. Posted with her permission, of course.
Magnus only realized how drunk he was once he stumbled out of the tavern and into dimly lit streets of whatever shithole port town they were currently anchored at. He’d left his shipmates to a rigged game of Blackjack, opting to walk off his inebriation before returning to his hammock on the ship.
The air was chill and damp, the breeze smelled like rain on the way, but there were still patches of clear sky to be seen between the rolling clouds. The moon slid in and out of view, and Magnus felt like his vision blurred further with every passing shadow. The sea was silver black, still except for the riffles the wind stirred on the shore, lapping like cat with a bowl of cream. Magnus’ bare feet shuffled on the worn planks of the dock and tried to sit carefully edge of it. It didn’t work entirely. His balance left him and he thumped down on his bottom, laughing as he tried not to lose the shoes in his hands to the water.
His ankles hung over the dock’s edge and he slipped his feet in. Water burbled, his gentle kicks eddying icy water and he stared at the veiled heavens. He tried to focus on the stars when he could see them, but they seemed to blink lazily and shift in the sky, like the earth was spinning too fast. Or maybe it was like a painter whose stokes kept washing out the one that had come before. He raised a hand heavenward, pretending it were his fingers pushing the clouds across the sky.
Frustrated with his current boredom, he wondered at why. Philosophical discussions with one’s self whilst inebriated were rather enlightening, he thought. At least in the moment. He knew somewhere in the back of his mind he would kick himself later, when sober, about how he thought it would make good sense that lightning would one day be harnessed to move things. How absurd. He let his hand drop back down to his side.
He flumped onto his back, the gaps in the planks awkward against his lean frame. He smiled to himself, the ridiculous notion leaving him of fey mood. Kicking the water up, his delight would have been marred by his the arcs of water leaving cold patches on his britches, but he was too drunk to care. He enjoyed the feeling of the water rushing between his toes, the sound as it sloshed and splattered.
Soon, with all the splish-a-splash, he realized he was getting more wet than his feet could possibly kick up on their own. Disgusted and curious, for now his pants really were soaked and would be damp for more than a few days, he sat up. “What the hell-?” he grumbled.
The black glowed green, and frothed a little, as the small waves were made bigger by some unseen coil. Violet eyes, alight with some internal fire, stared unblinking at him. It was unnerving. He swallowed hard, seeming not to breathe as he studied the creature. Silvery hair was slicked onto the somehow misshapen - no, elongated skull. Frilled gills moved on the pale neck, pink against clammy grey, that yet somehow shone with an iridescent lustre, like scales.
Words stuck in his throat, and he licked his lips. The creature mirrored him, revealing a crooked, toothy grin and purple tongue. He knew he shouldn’t look, he knew he wanted to leave or recite something ….that he was told by… but… it. He could not look away. That fire, it would be warm he thought, as the creature’s gaze drew him closer. He shifted, pulling his feet from the water to lean on his hands and knees. He did not feel the rough wood.
The creature moved with sinewy grace, and two muscled human-like arms emerged from the water with nary more than a ripple, beckoning. Magnus smiled, his blurred mind laughing with the song that seemed to thread through his thoughts. It was so pretty, like fireflies on the night, or the sigh of a pleased lover. ‘I’ve won this hand!’ he thought, though he did not know why it would have been important to him when, he? She? It sang before him.
Magnus reached for the beast, fingers outstretched as if to touch the pearly cheek. Coy, the creature moved, the sea still quiet to its presence. Magnus’ other hand gripped the dock too tightly, and he started as a sliver of the dock pierced his callused hand. He gasped, “Ah!” The spell was broken. He looked from the creature to the blood now beading on his palm.
There was a woosh and the sea roiled, the primordial scent of deep sea filled his nose. Magnus’ heart nearly stopped at the cold touch of the fae, the human-like hands gripping his as it captured his sky-blue stare. Unable to look away, fear leapt into his breath and he shook, leaning away from the merman’s intensity. It hummed in a tongue he did not know, but…felt.
The creature only bent slowly, its seemingly impossibly long tongue brushed against the droplet of red on his hand. It’s curious slitted nostrils flared, and the flame grew to bonfire. A gentle human-like hand caressed his cheek lovingly, and a furtive smile appeared on black lips. His pain was gone! Magnus could feel the tingly sensation leap up his arm, but it felt so good! He dared to breathe again in relief.
Magnus felt the smooth wet surface of its skin, cold…yet warm as if his touch awakened some forgotten heat. Its hands coiled into his wind tousled blond hair, and drew him towards the water. Violet, like summer sun on the posies; like wine from the coast of Spain; like the silk from Orient lands; like the sky afire with lighting, called… called.
A white, sharp-toothed grin, insatiable in its lust, spread across its too wide mouth. Magnus’ eyes widened, ‘My love,’ he thought in existential fear, the violet fire swallowed him whole.
Cold, cold, the icy sea all silver black, smooth and still as glass, did not ripple as the dock sat empty and still under purple skies.